


Taken

by fukujoshi (charmed7293), midnightferret



Series: In Which They Are [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alliances, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta OC, Blindfolds, Butt Plugs, Collars, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug-Induced Sex, Electricity, Enemas, Gags, General Creepiness, Hopeful Ending, IUD, Id Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Examination, Multi, Non-Chronological, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic gun violence, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Shock Collars, Spreader Bars, Stalker OC - Freeform, Stalking, Talk of Forced Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/pseuds/fukujoshi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightferret/pseuds/midnightferret
Summary: When Victor goes missing shortly after Worlds, Yuuri picks himself up and decides to secretly dedicate next season to his idol, even if he will no longer be able to skate on the same ice as him. On his way to meet with a potential coach, Yuuri is also taken, brought all the way to Russia and tohim, a crazed beta who was also behind Victor's kidnapping.Hethinks the three of them make a nice little family, somethingheknows Victor has always wanted. There's only one thing that can make them aperfectfamily: a baby, of course.They may have survived their first trial, but what future horrors will they be forced to endure? Eventually, things stretched too thin will simplysnap.





	1. Taken

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the works for a loooong time and I'm so excited to finally share it! This is chronologically the first part of this series and gives a bit more background about how things got to the point they're at in the previous fics. I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> A _huge_ thanks and shoutout to my artist [Mferret9](http://mferret9.tumblr.com/). It was such a pleasure working with her. It was like she took my visions straight out of my head. The comic (yes, _comic_ *sobbing*) is in the second chapter, but please also reblog and support mferret [here](http://mferret9.tumblr.com/post/179330835241).

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


Yuuri stood on the bench beneath the cherry blossoms, watching the sun set over his hometown for the first time in five years. He couldn’t quite pinpoint how it made him feel. It wasn’t melancholic, but he wouldn’t exactly say it was contentment either.

Just the other day he had told Yuuko he had gotten tired of being depressed and that was certainly true, but it wasn’t as simple as just wishing it away. Not _wanting_ to feel depressed was very different from actually not feeling depressed. He still hadn’t quite figured out how to achieve that, so Yuuri was doing what he did best: running away.

He had run away from Victor in Sochi. He had run away from Detroit and everyone there. Just the other day, he had even run away from the onsen to avoid watching Worlds. It had been the first time he hadn’t viewed or attended Worlds in ten years. On his walk home from Ice Castle that night, he had wondered if that could have jinxed things. He had competed in the last four Worlds and Victor had won gold the past four years…

Ha! The very idea of that was laughable. As if he had any influence over anything, much less the unstoppable force that was Victor Nikiforov. If anything, Yuuri would be bad luck now. He had arrived back at the onsen just in time to catch the medal ceremony and Victor had been in the middle, as always, looking like a prince in his magenta free skate costume. He stood, tall and proud, on the podium while Yuuri slumped, dumpy and defeated, in the doorway.

The crowd had roared as Victor brought his gold medal up for the traditional kiss, but instead Yuuri had shifted his attention to Christophe Giacometti, with silver as usual. He had always imagined what it would feel like to be in his place, to have Victor close in so many ways: in score, in skill, in distance, in friendship.

Surely that was a distant dream now. Returning to skating…well, how could he do that after the disaster this season had been?

But could he really retire with such failure staining his last season?

The last of the sun’s rays slipped below the horizon.

His phone started vibrating in his pocket and Yuuri jumped in surprise. He dug it out and glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Yuuri, it’s getting dark. Are you coming home soon?”

Whether he was in Hasetsu or Detroit, training at home or competing abroad, his mother would always worry about him. His infrequent communication over the past few years certainly didn’t help. “Yeah, I’m coming home now.”

“I’ll put dinner on for you. Be safe!” She hung up before Yuuri could even ask about what she was making. No doubt it was katsudon again, but he wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not. Did he _deserve_ it right now?

Definitely not, but…

He hopped off the bench and slowly started walking back to the onsen.

The more he thought about the medal ceremony, the greater his desire to skate again became. He wanted to do more than imagine and dream. He didn’t want to give up skating, not yet. Last season, he had gotten so close and then had failed so spectacularly. There was no way he could get lower than that, so what was there to be worried or embarrassed about?

Sure, he didn’t have a coach or a rink, but he still had _drive_. He would get back in shape, look up some old coaches from Ice Castle, and throw himself into training. He couldn’t skate forever and neither could Victor. It _had_ to be next season.

With his resolve steeled, he quickened his steps until he was running. He could do this!

Once home, he savored the katsudon his mom had made for dinner, telling himself it was the last bowl for a while, until he achieved his goals. He rinsed down and soaked in the onsen. That was one of the few luxuries available at home that would only help with his training. Made sleepy by the hot water and his workouts earlier in the day, Yuuri dragged himself up to his room and collapsed on his bed. He would get a good night’s rest and then get to serious work in the morning. That was…a good… plan…

…

…

… _ding_ …

“Mmmhh…”

_ding_

_ding_

Yuuri rolled over, eyes still firmly closed.

_ding_

Who… _the fuck_ …was texting him?

_ding ding ding_

Wait…that wasn’t his text tone…

With a deep inhale, Yuuri pushed himself onto his elbows. His phone was easy to locate, the screen lit up and displaying several notifications. Vision blurry, Yuuri could just tell they belonged to the news app. There was only one thing Yuuri got alerts for.

His heart pounded as he scrambled to find his glasses. Sliding them on, he scanned the headlines. Horror bloomed in his chest the more he read. They all said the same, both in English and Japanese.

_Victor Nikiforov, 27, Missing_

Instantly wide-awake, he sat up in bed and clicked on the first headline, the few seconds it took to load were the longest of his life. He scanned through the article and then tabbed back, clicking on the next one. And the next. And the next.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. Something that would say this was all just a hoax? A theory proving it was a publicity stunt? A reassurance that everything would be okay?

Well, there was nothing like that.

Yuuri was able to piece together the full story from several articles. After Victor had failed to show up at practice in the morning and didn’t pick up any calls, Yakov Feltsman had gone to his apartment. He banged on the door and shouted until the neighbors complained, but had then gotten the landlord to let him in…only to find the apartment empty. No Victor, no Makkachin, no clothes in the closet.

The article Yuuri was reading right now suggested that Victor had likely run away from everything, the pressure of everything too much for him. That just didn’t sound right to Yuuri. Victor wasn’t like him. He didn’t run away. He was strong.

* * *

Victor had never felt weaker than he did in this moment. He never bought into stereotypes about dynamics, so it’s not like he didn’t think something like this could happen to him because he was a big, strong alpha. He didn’t think it could because _no one_ thought it would happen to them.

Athlete or not, there was no way he could have fought off three people at once, especially after they had threatened Makkachin. He only hoped she was okay. He didn’t know what had happened to her after they had knocked him out.

He didn’t exactly know what had happened to _him_ either. He had come into consciousness with his hands bound behind his back and a blindfold around his eyes. Not even a hint of light had shown through the fabric, so wherever he was lying down was completely dark. The buzz of white noise in the background had made it difficult to concentrate, but he had become less annoyed with it when he had identified the sound as tires crunching over the gravel of an poorly maintained road. From that and the jostling movement, he had judged he was in a car, specifically the trunk with the way he was rolling around.

At least he now had a vague idea of where he was. It wasn’t exactly helpful and he still had no way of escaping. He remembered this one documentary he saw a few years ago, about people being abducted in the trunks of cars. He tried not to think about the statistics of surviving an abduction and focused on remembering what they said about opening a trunk from the inside. Something about pulling out wires…

Not that he could do that without his hands. He had tried screaming for help, but it was unlikely anyone could hear him.

He had cried, too. He was glad no one had been around for that. But _god_ why was he _ashamed_ of it? Surely anyone would be scared in this situation.

The car slowed, no long traveling on gravel, but over smooth pavement. Then it stopped. Doors opened and slammed, voices shouting things Victor couldn’t quite make out. Footsteps rounded the car.

Oh god, oh god, they were coming to get him and he had no idea where they were or how he could fight back or—

The trunk popped open with a _click_ and light filtered through his blindfold.

“We’re here.”

Victor barely had time to recognize the voice of one of the men who had assaulted him before he was hauled out of the trunk.

His legs were unsteady and he would have fallen without the tight grip on his upper arms. The man urged him forward and Victor reluctantly stepped along.

“Sorry about the cramped ride. **He** gave very specific instructions. You were not to know where you were being taken. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Victor caught the strange emphasis, but despite his curiosity, he grit his teeth and refused to react.

“You know, in any other situation I would have been asking for your autograph. Maybe I still will. I have a feeling it’s going to be worth a lot more very soon.”

Victor dug his heels in. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 _“_ **He** ’s been vague about details, but it’s pretty clear **he** intends to keep you here.”

“Who is **he**?”

“Ah! Victor! There you are.”

A voice he didn’t recognize spoke this time, the accent strange. A foreigner? This certainly wasn’t a native Russian speaker.

“Just bring him inside.”

 _Hell_ no! There was no way Victor would allow that to happen. He could hear someone approaching from the right and he kicked out in that direction. His foot made contact with something solid and there was a grunt.

Victor threw himself forward, aiming to knock the man holding him off-balance. They both fell to the ground, the man landing on top of him. Victor rolled out from under him and awkwardly struggled to his knees without the use of his arms. He was about to bring a foot under him to stand when a hand wrapped around his ankle and _pulled_.

He was dragged back down and, with no way to catch himself, his head smashed against the pavement. Dazed, he could do nothing but lie there.

“Be more careful with him! What if he had gotten seriously hurt?”

 **His** voice was much closer now.

“What if he had gotten away?” the man who had taken Victor from the trunk asked. “You don’t look like much. How are you going to stop him?”

“With this.”

Victor felt hands at his neck, pushing his hair out of the way. He tried to struggle, but he still couldn’t quite tell which direction was which. Then something was slipping completely around his neck. He moaned weakly in protest. There was a metallic click and the hands retreated, but the pressure remained.

“I designed it myself. With the remote I can—”

“Look, we don’t really care,” another one of the assailants said, the one Victor had initially pegged as the leader. “We took him. We brought him to you. Now we would like our money.”

 **He** let out a sigh.

“Bring him inside and your money will be waiting there.”

This time, both his arms and legs were grasped, lifting him clear off the ground. He tried to kick out again, but he was being held far too tight now.

“Through that door. Set him on the couch.”

He was lowered onto a soft surface and released. Voices faded into the background.

Victor struggled to sit up. His head was still spinning and not being able to see certainly wasn’t helping matters. Not knowing the location of **him** or the men who took him was also concerning. They could leave him alone or be back any minute, but it didn’t really matter, as he wouldn’t get very far bound and blind.

Behind him, someone took a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. Victor was deciding between stubbornly staying silent or demanding answers when **he** spoke.

“Now that they’ve been taken care of…”

A hand brushed against the side of his head, sending him flinching back. Heedless, the blindfold was grasped and pulled off his head. Victor saw the vague outline of a person crouched in front of him and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.

“Welcome!”

 **His** face only came into focus enough to see the wide smile stretching across it.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble getting you here, but forget about all of that. You finally made it!”

Victor stared blankly. **He** was still speaking Russian, but it was even more obvious that it wasn’t **his** native language with those longer sentences.

“Do you remember me, Victor?”

Victor refused to answer, only glaring—partly to see **his** face better, but mostly to convey his anger.

“It’s okay if you don’t. It was over 10 years ago now.”

Victor wracked his mind, trying to remember where he might have seen **his** face before. It was rather unremarkable. **His** scent wasn’t even noticeable, meaning **he** was likely a beta. Victor could have passed **him** on the street a hundred times and not be able to recognize **him** now.

“And it was at a banquet when you were still in juniors. I’m sure you met so many more important people that night. But you made time for everyone, even a simple fan.”

A banquet? Those were always so dreadfully boring—with only one notable exception. Faceless sponsors and media personnel constantly surrounded him, vying for his endorsement and attention. He only paid them the barest of attention required for their badgering, but if a fan approached him? He had _always_ cared for his fans. He would certainly have abandoned schmoozing to speak with one.

“We talked for a while, until your coach pulled you away. But then later…well, you remember, I’m sure! For now, I want to show you around. I set up these rooms especially for you!”

It took Victor a moment to register that he hadn’t taken in his surroundings properly. He had been so focused on **him** and trying to remember their supposed meeting.

“This is the living room obviously.”

Victor was sitting on a couch in the middle of the room that faced a TV on top of stand. There were mostly-empty bookshelves along the same wall, but nothing else in terms of decoration or furnishings. Looking to the left and the right, Victor saw two similarly barren walls, with only a door set into each of them.

 **He** stood and walked over to the TV stand, opening the doors on the bottom. Victor glimpsed some cases lined up neatly.

“I had some things taken from your apartment—movies and books I remembered you like—so it should feel a bit more like home. You can always ask me for anything you think you might need.”

Victor somehow doubted a request for freedom would be honored.

“And through here is the kitchen.”

 **He** circled around the couch and Victor carefully followed **him** with his gaze. **He** went through an archway set into the wall opposite the TV. Victor let **him** go. He wasn’t interested in seeing this place nor planning on staying trapped in here much longer. Just seeing the room hadn’t told him anything about his location, but those men had brought him into this room through one of those doors. It led to a way outside. That was good enough for him!

It was a fifty-fifty chance, but Victor always had good luck. Springing off the couch, he chose the door to his left. With his hands still tied behind his back, it took some fumbling to even find the knob, but he managed to grasp it and twist in just the right way to get it to turn.

He spun around and kicked the door open, only to see a huge bed taking up most of the space. He guessed wrong! With a frustrated growl, he ran to the other door on the opposite wall.

“Victor!”

He paused for a fraction of a second, but then moved more frantically than before.

“Victor?”

Again, he awkwardly gripped the doorknob and struggled to turn it. It wouldn’t budge, but he didn’t know if that was because of his own difficulties or if the door was locked.

“Hey!”

 **His** voice cut through the room, clear and sharp. Victor was prepared to rush **him** when he felt the strangest sensation on the side of his neck. It started like a simple static shock, nothing more than touching his doorknob after patting Makkachin, and barely lasted long enough for him to make that comparison. He didn’t know how to describe what happened next. Pain arched out from that point, seizing his muscles and nerves to the point that he had no control.

A shout tore through his throat and his legs folded under him. The shock released him from its hold before his knees even hit the ground, but the pain lingered. Victor breathed heavily, trying to recover.

 **He** knelt down next to him, offering a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about that. You just startled me. I should have figured you would get curious and want to explore on your own. There’s nothing really interesting out there anyway. Just my room.”

Victor was still reeling. It was hard enough to parse what **he** was saying, much less form his own response. That shock…it had come from whatever **he** had put around his neck.

“I got the idea from dog shock collars.”

Victor glanced at **him** sharply out of the corner of his eye.

“I heavily modified it, of course! It’s not nearly as crude. The materials and method of delivering the shocks are completely different.”

He tapped against the side of the collar, right over where the shock originated. Victor forced himself not to flinch away, though he gasped through his teeth. The area felt tender to the touch.

“The contacts rest against your skin here and…”

 **He** droned on about current and voltage, but Victor comprehended that about as much as he understood why he had been brought here in the first place. The only bit that had stood out to him was “dog.”

“Where’s Makkachin?” he asked, not caring what he interrupted.

 **He** blinked, looking perplexed, but then laughed.

“She’s fine! I’ll be taking good care of her. I have all the same things that you use.”

Victor felt the knot of worry in his chest ease a bit. Makkachin was okay! And from the sound of it she was here!

“Let me see her.” He was hardly in a position to be making demands, but nothing else mattered when it came to his dog.

“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea right now. You’re both still adjusting to being in a new place. Maybe later! Besides, there’s something I want to talk to you about! Of course you have Makkachin and all your fans and even your coach. But it’s not _enough_ , right? Especially lately. You want something _more_.”

Victor’s breath caught in his throat.

“You want a family.”

Oh. It was unnerving how accurately **he** was able to read Victor. He never talked to anyone about this.

“You always have. And I want to give it to you. You can just relax here while I find you the most beautiful, wonderful omega. Then the three of us can be together as our own perfect little family!”

 **He** spoke quickly, like **he** had all these ideas bottled up inside and just couldn’t stop once the dam had broken.

“Of course, your new omega can help us add to it! I think triplets would be wonderful. One for each of us to hold!”

Victor couldn’t keep up. **He** was spouting so much nonsense. **He** was talking about kidnapping _another_ person and bringing them here. And making them _bear his children_!

“I just want to give you what you want—what you _need_! Let me take care of everything. I won’t let you down!”

 **He** surged forward, throwing **his** arms around Victor in a tight, smothering hug.

Victor couldn’t even react, distracted by trying to figure out what he had done for a lunatic like this to have kidnapped him.

* * *

Yuuri made his way downstairs much earlier than usual. Typically, he didn’t set foot outside his door until after ten, but it wasn’t like he could sleep late if he never went back to bed last night. Right now, he just wanted pancakes, slathered in maple syrup or fruit jam, but preferably _both_. He was supposed to start dieting, but _screw that_. Surely this situation was justification enough.

“Oh! Good morning, Yuuri! You’re up early.”

His mother was smiling at him from behind a stack of towels. She was so happy to see him every day.

“Is something wrong, Yuuri?”

His mother put down the towels and approached with a concerned look on her face.

On second thought, he couldn’t stay here and bring his family down with him.

“I’m fine!” he said, shuffling around her and making a break for the door. “I’m going out!”

“But where are your skates?”

He barely heard or understood his mother’s question. He only picked up speed once outside the gates to the onsen, heading wherever his feet took him.

Maybe coming back here had been a mistake. He felt like he only got in the way when he tried to help at the onsen. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his college degree that took an extra year to finish. The only thing he thought he was good at was skating and he couldn’t even do that very well!

And now Victor was missing and…and…where was he supposed to find motivation to skate? His only dream had been to skate on the same ice as Victor and now that wasn’t going to happen. What was the point in—

 _WOW_. He was an awful person. Did he really have to make the possible abduction of a perfectly innocent person all about himself? He should just curl up in the gutter and let the next heavy rain wash him away.

Halfway down a side-street, Yuuri stopped and leaned forward, hands on his knees. His breaths came fast and quick, only partly because of exertion. He could feel tears burning in his eyes. Was it selfish for him to be so upset about this? He and Victor had barely interacted at the Grand Prix Final. They’d never had a conversation more substantial than Victor offering a photo and Yuuri walking away. He was just a long-time fan. There were plenty of other people closer to Victor who had more of a right to mourn.

He certainly had none if he was just going to be selfish about it.

It seemed to hit him all at once. He had been rather numb since he first read the news headlines, but now he felt _too_ much.

Victor was gone. Taken or not, it was unlikely that he would be back. What did it mean for figure skating? And—maybe it was much smaller, but it was still important—what did it mean for Yuuri?

His goal had always been to skate on the same ice as Victor. That had been his _drive_. And now it was gone.

 _Just like Vicchan_.

Well, that led down a path Yuuri didn’t want to explore, especially at the moment.

He took a shaky breath and pushed himself up. Looking around, he realized he was on the route to Ice Castle. He might as well keep going.

* * *

The furniture…it…it was bolted down! It was _all_ bolted down! What the fuck what the fuck what th—

* * *

There was no one at the counter when Yuuri walked into Ice Castle. He stood just inside, wondering why the doors had opened if the rink was apparently closed. It suddenly occurred to him that the Nishigoris had likely taken the day off in light of the very same news that had brought him here.

Yuuri was about to leave when a loud sob came from the direction of the office. He cautiously approached the counter, peering over it to look at the office door. No matter how long he skated here, it still felt strange to go on the other side.

“Yuuko?” he called out.

Almost immediately, the door burst open. Axel, Lutz, and Loop came barrelling out and jumped onto the counter. Yuuri had only a second to take in their red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks before they were shouting at him.

“Yuuri!”

“Did you see?”

“He’s gone!”

All three launched forward as one, sending him stumbling backwards, nearly falling to the floor. He didn’t know what to do as they all sobbed into his jacket.

“Girls!” Yuuko called sharply. She stood behind the counter and Yuuri could see evidence that she had been crying as well.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri said softly. As much as this amount of touching overwhelmed him, he was fine with letting the upset triplets cling to him if it made them feel better.

“H-have you seen the news?” Yuuko asked.

Yuuri nodded. He felt a bit guilty that he had come here. Of course Yuuko would be dealing with the triplets’ emotions as well as her own.

“They said he ran away!” Loop wailed, prompting her sisters to release their hold on Yuuri and throw their arms around her instead.

“But they’re wrong!” Axel said.

Lutz nodded fiercely. “He wouldn’t abandon his fans.”

Yuuri definitely agreed there. Victor was always looking to surprise his fans, but he would never make them upset. Besides, what was the point if he wasn’t even around to see their reactions?

On the other hand, the fact that he didn’t run away only meant that something bad had happened to Victor. A glance up at Yuuko revealed she was thinking the same thing, but it wasn’t something they should discuss around the triplets.

“Okay, I’m back!”

Yuuri turned to see Takeshi entering the lobby, holding a plastic bag. The triplets were quick to swarm him once he got close enough and he was quick to hand out the contents: cups of mint chocolate chip ice cream, the favorite of all the Nishigoris’. Yuuri was surprised when one was held out to him as well.

“I had a feeling you would be coming by,” Takeshi said.

Yuuri took it with a mumbled thanks.

The triplets looked slightly more calmed, though Yuuri knew it would take more than ice cream to make them truly feel better. They had stopped crying with the distraction of eating, at least.

“This probably isn’t the best time…” Yuuko started around a mouthful of ice cream, “but the girls told me this morning that they recorded your skate of _Stammi Vicino_.”

Takeshi nodded, giving the triplets a stern look. “They admitted they wanted to post it online—”

“What!?” Yuuri shrieked.

“But don’t worry! They didn’t!” Takeshi assured him. “We don’t care how upset they are right now. They’ll still be grounded for a very long time.”

“They did want to ask you a question, though,” Yuuko said.

Yuuri looked over at the triplets apprehensively. Their faces were as determined as they could be while smeared with ice cream.

“Can we post it anyway?”

“As a tribute to Victor!”

“To show how much he meant to you!”

Yuuri’s immediate thought was to refuse. He had skated _Stammi Vicino_ for Yuuko and, while he didn’t mind her daughters seeing it, it wasn’t meant for the rest of the world. Then he thought about his decision to skate for Victor next season. This would be a good first step in that direction. Posting a video of his skating wasn’t something he would have done before so it would be _surprising_ , like something Victor would do.

“Okay!” he said, a bit more loudly than he meant to.

“Really?!” the Nishigoris asked as one.

Yuuri laughed self-consciously. He was already surprising people. “Yes. I-I want to skate again next season, so I need to put myself out there.”

“That’s great, Yuuri!” Yuuko said, her eyes the brightest Yuuri had seen them today.

Yuuri tried to ignore the triplets whispered plotting about what to title the video. He didn’t need to be too involved in that process. He stared down at the ice cream container still in his grasp, slowly freezing the tips of his fingers. There was one more thing he needed to ask of them and now was as good a time as any to push aside his pride and go for it. “I’m sorry, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Don’t apologize. Anything,” Yuuko said.

“If I’m going to skate, I’ll need a coach. A proper one. I can’t ask Minako-sensei to step in like she used to back when I was in Juniors.”

Yuuko nodded, looking determined. “I can contact some of our old teachers and coaches. I’m not sure who is still in the area, but I know they would love to hear from us, especially if it’s about coaching you.”

Yuuri sighed in relief. Yuuko always knew exactly what he wanted without him having to say it. He didn’t understand why Ice Castle’s old instructors would be more interested just because he was mentioned, but he was grateful for her help anyway.

“Thank you.”

There was a lot more he wanted to say than a simple thanks, but it was hard to put into words. The Nishigoris had told him so many times they were supporting him and this was just another example of it. Words weren’t enough! He would show it through his skating—with a medal.

* * *

The kitchen, when Victor finally had a chance to go in it, was void of many things that would make it a place to prepare food. Utensils for both cooking and eating were sparse, with knives or anything else sharp completely missing. There were some containers with meals ready to be microwaved in the fridge and non-perishables in the cabinets, but there didn’t seem to be any ingredients for him to cook his own food.

 **He** visited frequently, knocking three times and giving him a small warning shock before entering. It seemed **he** just wanted to talk, sometimes in Russian, sometimes in English, which seemed to be **his** native language. **He** would ask Victor unnervingly specific questions about his life, things that indicated **he** knew a great deal about him already and wanted the details. Not answering brought more shocks, so Victor skirted around the truth as much as he could.

 **His** visits often ended with a meal, which **he** insisted they eat together at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. A third chair sat next to Victor, conspicuously empty.

* * *

The next few days were filled with training. From the second Yuuri woke, until the moment he set foot back into the onsen, he was in motion. Crunches, leg lifts, sprints up stairs with Takeshi yelling encouragement. He could already feel the depression weight slipping away, his muscles once more becoming well-defined. It was off-season, the time he usually let himself indulge and forget his diet plan for a little bit, but he had already done that _during_ the season. Hell, he had done it during _competition_. So now he needed to be strict. If he wanted to secure a coach in time to develop programs for next season he had to be in top shape and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

The days blurred together and Yuuri wasn’t even sure how long it had been when he got his first contact from an old instructor of Ice Castle’s. He was forcing himself to check his emails before collapsing into his bed and his heart leapt to his throat when he saw there was one marked unread.

> _Yuuri-kun! It’s very good to hear that you’re doing well. Yuuko contacted me, saying you were looking for a coach. I would be very honored if you considered me. I’m based in Osaka now, but I’ll actually be in Fukuoka doing some scouting during the last weekend of April. I’ll be at a rink for some viewings on Saturday afternoon. You’re more than welcome to come join that session. We can talk details afterwards._
> 
> _Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll send you the location. I hope to hear from you soon!_
> 
> _-Iwatani Momoko_

Yuuri felt a swoop of excitement in his chest, but he tried not to get his hopes up. Iwatani-sensei had extended an invitation for him to skate during the viewing session, but there was no guarantee she would pick him.

No, no more thinking like that. She mentioned talking after. She hadn’t brought up his shameful display at Nationals—though Yuuri knew she must have seen it—yet she was still interested in coaching him.

Osaka was much closer than Detroit. He could absolutely handle that.

He typed out a reply, hoping she wouldn’t think he was responding too quickly.

* * *

The bedroom was the only room with a window, or at least one Victor could reach. The kitchen had a small one high up on the wall, but he would need to push a chair over to get to it—which he couldn’t do. His first attempt had led him to discovering that the furniture was bolted to the floor, unable to be moved.

It made Victor more scared and confused. Confused because of what it implied about **him**. Most of the time, **he** acted as if **he** truly believed Victor wanted to be there, as if they were partners looking for an omega, but some of **his** other designs sent a different message. Things like the collar, the bolted down furniture, and the locked rooms indicated **he** knew **he** was forcing Victor to be there, deep-down.

That and the bars on the windows.

Victor was too scared to ask **him** about it, considering when he brought up the furniture he only got a shock for his troubles. He assumed it would be some bullshit anyway, like “protection against wild animals” or something. Though, to be fair, they did appear to be in the middle of a forest. Victor had spent a long time in the trunk of that car being driven here, so they could be well outside St. Petersburg. It was possible the forest outside the window was real, but also entirely possible it _wasn’t_.

Victor didn’t trust **him** , obviously. They could be in a residential area with a picture over the window for all he knew. It was a bit of a long shot, he knew that, but it was the one bit of hope he had. He clung to the possibility of someone being close enough to hear him calling for help.

He’d been hesitant at first, fearing some kind of retribution. He’d done his best to avoid getting shocked after that first time, but **he** was rather free with doling them out. There were warning shocks before **he** entered and punishment shocks for doing or saying anything that broke **his** little fantasy, intentional or not. Victor was scared to find out what an escape attempt would warrant. The bars looked too close together for him to fit more than his hand through, so it wouldn’t be much of one, but **he** would undoubtedly perceive it that way.

Surely it would be easier to forget about the window and keep doing his best to comply with **his** wishes and avoid **his** wrath. But there was still **his** threatening promise to find him an omega. Victor had to put an end to all of this before someone else got dragged into it.

It had still taken many days for Victor to build up the courage to actually follow through, but he had finally decided upon tonight. **He** was likely asleep by now, meaning Victor had until morning to himself. He was staying up later than usual, with his ear pressed against the door to make sure **he** wasn’t still awake, but Victor didn’t hear anything. With a sigh, he finally pulled himself away and headed to the bedroom.

The window usually offered a rather nice view of the treeline, but right now it was just pitch blackness. Victor pressed his hand against the glass. It was cold. That, at least, was as he had expected. He moved his hand to the latch, flicking it to the side, unlocking the window.

He gripped ridge at the bottom of the frame and, with a deep breath, gave a shove upwards. The window opened easily, with barely a sound. Icy cold air immediately blasted into the bedroom, chasing away any warmth. Victor shivered, only partly because of the chill seeping through his shirt.

It was quiet.

There was no sound coming in with the freezing cold. No cars were driving by, no late-night revellers were causing a ruckus, no pedestrians were shouting expletives at reckless drivers.

He breathed in, an attempt to calm himself, but the earthy scent that filtered through his nose only made him more panicked.

He wasn’t in the city. He wasn’t even near an inhabited area. This was definitely a real forest, located far away from other houses and even farther from St. Petersburg.

And he was trapped here, with only **him** for company.

Victor still wanted to scream and call for help, despite the fact that no one was around to hear him, but he found his lips frozen with something more than just the cold.

* * *

The train was relatively quiet for a Saturday. Most people had gotten off at the first couple of stops. Anyone going all the way to Fukuoka had most likely taken an earlier train. Yuuri sat slumped against the board at the end of the seating bench, headphones in and mask tugged firmly over his nose.

He wanted to arrive with some time to spare, but not so much that he psyched himself out. He tried to keep himself calm but ready, listening to a playlist of potential program music. Making the first steps to pull himself back together had sparked something inside of him. He usually left the music selection and choreography up to his coach, but he wanted to do some of it himself this season. Only he knew he would be skating for Victor, so no one else could pick a song that expressed exactly the tone he was feeling.

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to imagine being on the ice as the song was playing. He had never come up with his own choreography, but he had modified some parts of Celestino’s to fit his own style. Not to mention that years of watching and learning Victor’s programs had given him a good sense of how things flowed together.

That would be a good place for a jump. Maybe this part could be the step sequence? He would need to actually skate it to feel things out, but it seemed…

Someone sat down next to him. Yuuri startled a bit and squeezed himself closer to the board.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled. He didn’t realize it had gotten that busy. Glancing up, he realized it _hadn’t_.

The car was mostly empty, with an old woman and a young couple sitting at the other end. And of course the person sitting next to Yuuri. He risked a quick look out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t smell like anything so he was likely a beta, but nothing else about him really stood out—except for the way he was looking at Yuuri almost lecherously.

Yuuri snapped his gaze back to his phone. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. Should he ignore him or move away? Would this guy follow him to another train car? What if he got angry?

He could message Mari to tell her to call him and use the phone call as an excuse to move away. Or even get off the train. He’d wait for the next one and explain to Iwatani-sensei why he was late.

He was waiting for Line to load when the guy leaned into his space and spoke. “You’re Katsuki Yuuri, that figure skater, right?”

Yuuri swallowed thickly and pretend he didn’t hear through the headphones. He clicked on his conversation with Mari.

“Hey!”

One of his headphones was pulled from his ear and Yuuri flinched back.

“Katsuki Yuuri, right?”

“I’m s-sorry, I—”

“I read that you were an omega, but I didn’t think you would smell so good.”

Yuuri could feel the burning in his face. He had gotten used to people casually bringing up dynamics during his time in America, but this would be considered uncouth even there.

“Excu—”

“Where are you headed? Why don’t you just blow it off and spend time with me.” The guy put his hand on Yuuri’s leg.

“Please leave me alone,” Yuuri said, pushing the hand off.

“Hey, don’t be like that.” The guy moved even closer.

Yuuri shot out of his seat and moved away, saying a bit more loudly, “Please leave me alone.”

As he had hoped, it attracted the attention of the other passengers. He could hear the couple whispering to each other. He turned to head in their direction, but a hand wrapped around his wrist with a grip of steel.

“No one walks away from me,” the guy sneered.

Yuuri was about to wrench his wrist out of the grasp, but the guy yanked and Yuuri was hauled closer to him. An arm wrapped around his throat, trapping him solidly against the guy’s chest. Yuuri’s phone practically flew from his hands as he brought them up to grab at the arm.

“What? You think you’re too good for me?” he whispered into Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri struggled to pull the arm off, but the guy was too strong.

“Stop it! Leave him alone.”

The couple was now standing, the man striding forward as the woman frantically tapped on her phone.

The guy shifted, his free arm raising. There was a handgun held securely in his grasp. “I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you.”

The man froze, then started backing up. “Okay, okay…”

Yuuri jumped as a bang sounded out.

Both the man and the woman screamed. The man went down, holding his shoulder, while the woman rushed to catch him. Yuuri’s knees buckled under him and the guy’s arm digging into his windpipe was the only thing holding him up.

He swung the gun around to aim at the old woman, who was clutching at her chest and gasping.

“Now,” the guy growled into Yuuri’s ear, “how about you forget where you were going and come with me?”

Whimpering, Yuuri weakly shook his head.

“So you want me to shoot her!” he yelled, brandishing the gun.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed. This couldn’t be real, this _couldn’t_ be real.

The guy shook him roughly. “Huh? Is that what you want?”

“N-no!” Yuuri finally managed.

The guy hauled him up and changed his grip to wrap around Yuuri’s upper arms. “Then you’ll be coming with me.”

The gun was passed to his other hand, where he kept it pressed against Yuuri’s side. He grabbed Yuuri’s face mask with his free hand, pulling it down.

“Open up,” he said simply.

“Wh—” Yuuri was cut off as a wad of fabric was stuffed in his mouth. His protests were further muffled by the guy sliding the mask back up over his face.

“I just need you to be nice and quiet. If you struggle too much I’ll shoot someone else. You don’t want that, do you?”

Yuuri frantically shook his head.

“So you’ll be good for me?”

He nodded.

“What a nice little omega. Our stop is coming up. It’s a good thing you decided to cooperate before we arrived.”

The train slowed as it approached the station. The speakers crackled as the driver made announcements about the next station. Yuuri barely heard anything over the moans of the man who had been shot and the muffled sobs of the woman. He couldn’t control his own breathing and it was made even more difficult by the gag in his mouth.

The gun disappeared under the guy’s jacket as the train came to a complete stop and the doors slid open. He dropped his arm to a tight grip around Yuuri’s waist and steered him out onto the platform. Yuuri did his best to walk on his shaky legs, eyes darting around to find someone, anyone to whom he could signal his distress, but no one got off or was waiting near their car.

They headed right for the escalators that would take them to the bridge over the platforms. The guy rushed him up the moving stairs.

“Get your ticket out.”

Yuuri reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Why couldn’t this have been one of the times he lost it?

“Don’t even _look_ at the attendants.”

Yuuri felt the barrel of the gun pressing into his lower back. That was all the warning he needed.

He tried to keep his eyes focused directly ahead of him as they approached the ticket gate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man in the office talking with a girl. Yuuri had hoped his strange behavior would draw attention, but the sole worker at the station was already distracted.

The guy’s grip didn’t loosen as they went through the gate. He fed his ticket into the machine right after Yuuri’s and then ushered them down the stairs and out an exit, heading directly for an off-duty taxi cab. The back door swung open and the guy shoved Yuuri inside. He climbed in himself and the door closed behind them.

Yuuri couldn’t waste any time taking in his surroundings. He needed to get out of there before they started moving! Lashing out, he kicked the guy straight in the face and turned toward the door he landed against.

Before he could do anything, the back of his shirt collar was yanked, choking him and sending him sprawling onto his back across the seats. The gun was immediately in his face.

“You piece of—”

A door opened and the car rocked as someone climbed inside. “Put that fucking thing away! We won’t get paid if you _kill_ him.”

Yuuri looked toward the front seat where the voice had come from. The girl who had been talking to the attendant was settling into the passenger seat. She looked just as young as the guy, but far more severe, only amplified by the alpha scent leaking out from her. That distraction had been planned—this had _all_ been planned!

“Give me the gun,” she demanded, holding her hand out.

The guy huffed and handed it over. He quickly turned his attention back to Yuuri and grabbed his wrists, pinning them together with one hand. “Where’s the rope?”

“You actually used it!?” the girl shrieked, brandishing the gun.

“Well why did you give it to me if not to use it, you crazy bitch!”

“It was supposed to just be for intimidation.”

“Oh, come on—”

Yuuri used their distraction to struggle again, twisting and pushing against the guy’s grip. It slipped for a brief moment, but he quickly recaptured Yuuri’s wrists.

“Stop worrying about the damn gun and get me some rope! Unless _you_ want to come back here and get kicked in the fucking face.”

Rope was tossed back, the coils landing heavy on Yuuri’s chest.

As the guy tied it around Yuuri’s wrists, the girl turned to the person in the driver’s seat. “Will you go already! We need to get out of here before the police arrive. No doubt whoever this moron shot has called them.”

The car jerked into motion, rolling away from the curb. Yuuri felt his hope slipping away, but he refused to just lay there. He was already breathing heavily, but needed to make one last-ditch effort to escape. He pulled his legs back and aimed for the window. The first kick bounced off, sending shock waves up through his ankles.

“What—”

The second hit produced a satisfying crunch.

“Fuck!”

The guy released Yuuri’s now-bound wrists to practically leap across him and grab his legs. Yuuri drove his fists into his stomach. He slipped off the seats and fell to the floor, gasping.

Before Yuuri could go for a third hit, a sharp pain pierced his neck followed by a rush of warmth. The girl had thrown herself over the center console and into the backseat. She was just drawing her hand back from his neck, an empty syringe clutched in it.

Yuuri scrabbled at the injection site, trying to do something, _anything_ , to stop whatever is was from spreading. It didn’t help that his heart was hammering in his chest, no doubt pumping it faster through his veins. He could already feel the strength in his arms fading.

The girl rounded back on the guy, who was still wheezing. “Why didn’t you just sedate him to begin with?”

“I didn’t think…he’d be able…to break a fucking window, _fuck_.”

“He’s an athlete. Of course he’s going to be strong!”

The guy was saying something in response but the words all started to blend together. Where even was he? What had he been doing? He had been on the train…for something related to skating.

Skating?

Oh, yes, he had been going to meet Iwatani-sensei. But he left his bag on the train. His phone, too. Hopefully someone would notice…skates were expensive…

* * *

**He** was happy, very happy. Victor wasn’t sure why, but he knew he didn’t like it.

* * *

Cold. It was so cold. The air around him was cold. The hard surface he was lying on was cold. It was all he knew. Cold.

Yuuri wanted to curl in on himself. He tried, but his arms were too heavy. No, not quite that. He could lift them, but they stopped, held down by something sharp that dug into his wrists.

Yuuri tried to open his eyes, but immediately squeezed them shut again. There was a bright light dangling directly above his head.

Swallowing thickly, he tried moving again. Ugh, his legs felt weird. They weren’t laid flat. They were…they were held up. Up and apart. Fear sparked inside his sluggish mind.

He turned his head to the side and tried opening his eyes again. With a few blinks, his vision cleared as much as it could without his glasses. His breath caught in his throat. It looked like he was in some kind of medical laboratory. Stainless steel cabinets and countertops lined the wall.

There was more steel in the corner of his eye—the table he was apparently lying on. His gaze was drawn down the table along his body and he realized he was naked. He bit his lip in an attempt to muffle a sob.

What the fuck? What the fuck? _What the fuck?_

There were cuffs over his wrists, securing them to the surface. His legs were strapped into some stirrup-like device that kept them bent at the knees, cradling his calves so he was spread wide and couldn’t escape.

He whimpered, trying to pull his legs free, but they didn’t budge. The table didn’t even shake. Still, he kept struggling and it didn’t take long to break down into full-on sobbing.

_Where was he how did this happen would he ever see his family again why HIM?!_

Exhausted, he finally stopped. The sobs faded into sniffles and panting and he was just left feeling hopeless. Lying still let the chill seep back into into his bones and he began to shiver. He was going to die here, wasn’t he?

There was noise in the distance, though he couldn’t tell how far away it was. He held his breath as it seemed to get closer.

A door opened. Then closed. Footsteps crossed the room.

Yuuri turned his head, straining to see. A figure, a man, stood with his back to Yuuri. There was the squeak of a tap and the man washed his hands. There was no new scent in the air, so he must have been a beta.

Yuuri couldn’t stop the dread pooling in his stomach.

The man turned around.

“Oh! You’re awake.”

He was white and spoke English with an American accent. He looked so average, he could have been someone Yuuri passed on campus in Detroit a hundred times.

Yuuri tried to control his breathing. Was he even in Japan anymore?

“Wh-who—” Yuuri tried to ask, but his throat was dry and his teeth chattered from the cold.

“I got your message, Yuuri. That’s how I knew to have you brought here.”

What was this man talking about? Message? Yuuri sure as hell hadn’t done anything to indicate he wanted this to happen!

“I’m sorry for all the restraints. It’ll be so much easier for you if you don’t have to hold the positions I need you in. I don’t want you to move around and hurt yourself either.”

“What? Don-don’t touch me!”

The man seemed to ignore him as he pulled on a pair of gloves.

“I must confess that I don’t know much about how bodies work, but I just want to make sure you’re ready for him.”

That was why he had been brought here? To be a sex toy! Some whore for a man powerful and corrupt enough to steal people away to a foreign country for his own personal use!

“No!” Yuuri thrashed around, striving to get free once again.

The man jumped back, startled. Yuuri struggled until he was exhausted, screamed until he was hoarse. When he finally had to stop, petering off into pathetic twitches and sobs, the man stepped forward.

“Calm down, Yuuri. Why are you acting like this?”

He put his hand on Yuuri’s knee and rubbed soothingly. It spurred Yuuri back into motion, trying to shake him off.

“I know you’re just eager to see him, but I want to make sure you’re completely ready. And—just between you and me—he doesn’t know you’re here yet so it’s all a surprise! Isn’t that exciting?”

Yuuri struggled to make sense of his words. What would make this man think he _wanted_ any of this? He must be delusional!

The man pulled over a rolling stool and settled himself between Yuuri’s legs.

His panic spiked again. “No! DON’T TOUCH ME! No no no nonono—”

“It’s okay, Yuuri. I know you only want your alpha’s touch. I _promise_ you’ll get it soon. But for now let me just be the beta to your alpha and omega. The full spectrum of dynamics! A perfect, complete family.”

This…this man was insane! What was he even talking about? A _family_?

“Hmmm, well, maybe not quite complete yet. But we’ll think about that later.”

Yuuri did _not_ like the sound of that, but he barely had time to contemplate it as the man’s finger carefully circled his entrance. Yuuri could only sob weakly as he fruitlessly tried to draw away. Heedless of his protests, the finger slowly pushed inside.

“You’re so tight. I’m sure that will be nice for him, but I don’t want you to get hurt. He’s an alpha, so of course he’s got an impressive cock. I think you’ll be quite pleased with it. But I do need to prepare you. Should I clean you out as well?”

The finger withdrew, but that was barely a relief, knowing more horrible things were coming. The man stood and walked past Yuuri’s head, to some point behind him he couldn’t see. Metal doors opened with a _clang_.

“I’m pretty sure omegas regulate themselves, but it can’t hurt to be thorough.”

The man rummaged around, which only built-up Yuuri’s anxiety. What did he mean by ‘cleaning him out?’ And he didn’t like the mentions of preparations either. He hated just lying here, waiting for things to happen, but he was completely spent. If he couldn’t break the bonds before, there was no way he could do it now.

“Ah! I think this one is good. It will help with stretching you out, as well.”

The man returned, holding a bundle of tubing in his arms, one end leading to a bag and the other tipped with a bright red conical shape, a slight bulge around its center. Yuuri vaguely recognized it as an enema kit. Understanding what was going to happen to him certainly didn’t make things better. He pulled weakly at the wrist cuffs.

The man took the bag over to the sink and turned the tap on. It ran into the empty metal with a hollow sound.

“The water takes a while to warm-up, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

The man approached him once more.

“I should probably make sure you’re open enough to take the nozzle.”

He reached back between Yuuri’s legs, pressing a finger inside.

“S-stop…” Yuuri pleaded, unable to keep tears from beading in his eyes.

“I know you only want his touch, but I promise you’ll thank me after this is over. I’ve seen him and he’s big before he even gets hard!”

A second finger nudged at his entrance, making Yuuri gasp and clench in panic.

“Hmmm, you’re not really producing much slick. I’ll use some lube for now, but we’ll find something else to help with that later.”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to keep his breathing even as the man’s fingers scissored inside of him, opening him up. Nothing could stop him.

“This should be good.”

The fingers withdrew and Yuuri was able to marginally relax. There were still awful things coming, but at least the man wasn’t touching him.

He came back with the now-full bag and a bottle of lube. He fiddled with something on the side of the table, eventually pulling up what looked like an IV pole and hanging the bag on it. He followed the clamped tubing down to the nozzle at the other end. After coating it with lube, the man rested the cold tip against his entrance.

Yuuri clenched, trying to keep it out, but the man pushed slow and steady. Yuuri’s resistance was pitiful and the nozzle inexorably slid inside. The stretch as it filled him was relentless. Even when it stopped moving there was no relief in being held open.

“There we go. Now to pump it up.”

The man lifted the attached bulb and gave it a squeeze. Air rushed through the tubes and Yuuri felt the nozzle expand inside him.

“Stop…don’t…”

Of course, the man didn’t listen. He kept squeezing, all the while staring right between Yuuri’s legs. The pressure inside him increased with every pump. It pushed against his walls, forcing them to stretch around it. And the man showed no signs of stopping. He only watched, a look of twisted wonder on his face that made Yuuri feel sick.

“ _Amazing_ …”

He gave two quick squeezes, making the stretch come faster and more intensely than before. Yuuri gasped around a sob, seized by panic.

“Stop! Too much, it’s too much, please, _stop_ …”

“You think that was a lot? How are you going to take his knot?”

He squeezed twice again.

Yuuri screamed.

Everything before this was already more than he had ever been stretched before, but this pushed him past his limits. It was an unrelenting, pulsing ache, a constant reminder that _this wasn’t okay_.

“Please, please, no, take it out. I don’t want this!” Yuuri managed around his renewed sobs.

“But, Yuuri, it can’t come out now. See?”

The man gave the nozzle a gentle tug and Yuuri screamed again.

“It’s stuck in tight. Just like a knot. The sooner I finish this up, the sooner I’ll be able to remove it.”

He felt the water bag, testing the temperature. With a nod, he reached for the clamp on the tubing.

“Ready, Yuuri?”

“NO! No, I don’t want this, you can’t do this to me, let me go, I can’t—”

Yuuri was cut off with a gasp as water just a few degrees below scalding rushed into him. It drew his mind away from everything else happening around him, so forceful of an invasion it was. He distantly heard himself murmuring, “No, no, stop, no,” but even then he wasn’t sure if it was real or only his thoughts.

He was brought back into what he was reasonably certain was real life by a hand skimming over his stomach.

“I can already see how you’re filling up!”

Yuuri could _feel_ it. All he was aware of was how full and heavy his stomach was becoming and how the slightest movement sent cramps ripping through his abdomen. It only got worse as water continued flowing into him. He didn’t know how much he had already taken. Surely he couldn’t hold more, but it just kept coming.

The man rubbed his stomach as he made hushing sounds probably intended to be comforting.

“Almost done. Just a little bit left. Aaaaaand finished! Now you just have to hold it. Ten minutes should be good.”

Yuuri whimpered in discomfort. There was no way he could stay like this for that long! The pressure from the inflated nozzle was only amplified by the water it was now holding back. He was used to pain, used to falling and picking himself back up, used to tearing his feet apart and bandaging them together again. But this was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was pain and discomfort and humiliation all at once.

The man pulled a cell phone out, supposedly setting a timer. Yuuri felt a brief flicker of hope. If he could get ahold of it for just a minute—but all thoughts were derailed by another cramp. He couldn’t even move, as bound and filled as he was.

The phone went back into the man’s pocket and he circled the table.

“You look so beautiful like this.”

His hand stroked over his belly again and Yuuri tried to squirm away, whimpering. Of course, he couldn’t go anywhere. He could only lie there as the man rubbed his stomach. It dispelled the worst of the cramps, but the distress it caused was of another kind entirely.

Yuuri had always been a private person. He preferred staying in his own space over being with a large group of people. Those closest to him had gotten to that position because they had earned it. They didn’t push him into accepting their touches, not matter how kind their intentions. They may not always have understood, but they _respected_ it.

This man…he had taken him away from those people. He had trapped Yuuri and then forced his touch upon him. He caressed and probed like it was his _right_ to do so, like Yuuri was something he owned and could play with. He even expected Yuuri to be receptive!

It was this violation, so casual and disregarding of his reactions, that finally overwhelmed and broke Yuuri. It was too much, too intense, too _unwanted_. And there was nothing he could do to fight against it. He stopped pulling against his bonds and trying to squirm away from the man’s touch. He went lax and slumped against the table, completely defeated.

The man continued trying to soothe him, apparently oblivious to the change.

“More than halfway there. It’s not so bad, right? And look!”

Unconsciously, Yuuri’s gaze drifted down the line of his body. His stomach swelled unnaturally, bloated from all the water that had been pumped inside him. He was horrified, but he couldn’t look away.

“It’s like a sneak peek of what you’ll look like while carrying his child! Isn’t it exciting?”

The man stopped rubbing to cradle Yuuri’s distended belly in his hands.

Yuuri let his head fall back, welcoming the intensified cramps because it took his mind off what the man just said. Why was this happening to _him_? What had he done to deserve this?!

“Nearly there.”

The man stepped away and Yuuri revelled in the absence of his touch. He came back with a bucket just as the alarm went off. With one hand he loosened the valve on the pump, rapidly deflating the bulge of the nozzle, which he pulled from Yuuri’s body with the other.

Yuuri barely felt any embarrassment from the water spilling out of him, too relieved at being empty again. There was no more pressure, no more cramping. He was hardly aware of anything beyond that.

“Wow, completely clean. Omegas really are amazing. Your bodies are so optimized. It’s incredible.”

The man took the bucket off somewhere, giving Yuuri a moment to pull himself back together. How he was supposed to do that after such a horrific experience he didn’t know. He lay there, trying to take stock of his body. There were no sharp pains, meaning nothing had torn. His ass still ached from the stretch, though there was nothing he could do about that. There was nothing he could do about anything!

Yuuri let himself slip back into sobs.

“Now that that’s been taken care of—oh! Why are you crying? There, there, it’s okay. I promise you won’t be empty for long.”

The man’s words only made Yuuri sob harder. He was simply insane! There was no other possible explanation. What other kind of person wouldn’t understand that his tears were at being kidnapped and then prepared to be some sicko’s sex slave!

“Let me just check you again.”

He scrambled back onto his stool, eagerly reaching forward. His finger slid inside, moving in and out a few times before adding another.

“You’re opening up so beautifully. And so easily. The enema was a good idea. I should plug you now, while you’re loose.”

Yuuri couldn’t even bring himself to sob at that. He should have expected it, honestly.

The man was back at the cabinet, returning quickly this time. Something that felt just as wide as the nozzle pressed into his entrance. It went in easier, but knowing it wouldn’t be removed made it feel much worse.

The man gasped softly, gaze trained between Yuuri’s legs once more. He bit his lip.

“I wonder…I want…he won’t mind. It’s not really for myself anyway. It’s for him. I’ll show him later.”

Yuuri had no idea what those ramblings were about, but the man seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion. He pulled out his phone. After a few taps of his finger, he was aiming it where Yuuri knew the end of the plug was protruding. Pictures…he was taking pictures. Yuuri felt sick.

“I should have thought of this when you were all filled up. He would have been so happy to see that.”

The man sighed regretfully and put his phone away.

“Hopefully, we won’t have to fantasize for long. I know he’s so eager to meet you. I had some ideas about how to present you to him! What do you think about a ribbon…”

He kept talking, but static filled Yuuri’s ears. Those words drove home why this man had brought him here, why he had taken him from home and his country, why he had violated and torn him open. This was only the beginning! Things could only get worse from this point!

There would be no rest for him, no reprieve from continued violations. Whoever this man was talking about wanted Yuuri for his own amusement and pleasure. He would treat Yuuri like a toy, only used for fucking and breeding.

Vaguely, Yuuri was aware that his throat was aching, and even more distantly that he was screaming. Hands gripped at his face, sending him spiralling further into panic. He thrashed as much as he could, trying to shake them away.

He couldn’t be still! He refused to just lie and take it!

There was a sharp pain in his upper arm, digging in deep, but it barely registered through his inner turmoil.

There was no escape! _There was no hope of rescue!_ **_He was going to be trapped here forever!_ **

His struggles grew weaker and his mind wandered. He couldn’t focus on what exactly he had been thinking. It was urgent…important…he heard words…

“…maybe it’s heat hormones? I should just go ahead and induce it…”

* * *

Victor shot up with a gasp. He was on the couch in the living room. The last thing he remembered was feeling incredibly tired after eating lunch. He sighed and flopped back down.

He should have expected this, or at least recognized the symptoms. **He** had drugged and knocked him out like this several times before. Each time, Victor woke up with some addition to the rooms he was locked in. It was usually small—a picture on the wall, a knick-knack on the shelf—but other times it was larger, such as the coffee table for the living room or the toaster in the kitchen. **He** wouldn’t be too far away, making last minute adjustments to the changes. **He** always seemed so sure that this new thing would be what helped Victor settle in and relax. Nothing short of being released would do that.

From his position on the couch, Victor could see the bedroom door—and the shadows moving under it. So it was for the bedroom, something big if **he** was still working. There was no way the bed could get any larger. It took up so much space that there was hardly room for the bedside tables and dresser, so there couldn’t be new furniture either.

The door opened just wide enough for **him** to exit. Victor glared. **He** smiled.

 **He** ran over to the couch, lifting Victor’s legs so **he** could sit down and then pulling them onto **his** lap.

“By now I’m sure you guessed that I got you another surprise. I’ve been keeping this a secret for a week now, just in case something went wrong during the delivery process. I’m so happy I didn’t spoil anything.”

Victor didn’t respond. He tried to move his legs, but **his** grip tightened.

“I noticed you never really reacted to all the other stuff and I finally realized that you’re not upset because of material things. You’ve always been able to buy anything you wanted. The root of the problem is that you’re _lonely_.”

Victor tensed. He did _not_ like where this was going.

“You need your omega here. I’ve been looking, of course, but no one was good enough for you. They needed to be _perfect_. But then one day I was going through your phone.”

The mention of his phone cut through the dread clouding Victor’s mind. He had assumed it was with **him** and had spent many hours thinking about what **he** could be doing with it. Of course there was nothing incriminating on there, but Victor didn’t want _anyone_ looking at the personal contents, much less **him**. There were private conversations, but most importantly his fledgling ideas for next season’s short program. The ideas had taken more shape over the past three months, but there were still notes of the rough, underdeveloped beginnings. Those early emotions were too raw, painting a vulnerable picture of himself instead of a story for a skating program. No one was ever supposed to see that.

“I know you think banquets are boring, so I never looked in that picture folder, but then—”

 **His** words faded into white noise. No.

“—simply beautiful—”

No no no.

“—so graceful—”

This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be what Victor thought it was. This was far worse than anything he had imagined.

“—perfect!”

Victor buried his face in his hands. It sickened him that he agreed with everything **he** had said. Katsuki Yuuri certainly was all of those things and for the first time Victor wished they had never interacted at the banquet.

“And he’s even an omega! Everything fell into place.”

This was Victor’s fault. It was all his fault. He had meant to delete those pictures from his phone. They were backed up, of course, but at least he wouldn’t be able to open that folder and stare longingly at them as he awaited a call or text from Yuuri. He had kept telling himself he would do it tomorrow, because maybe today would be the day Yuuri contacted him. Maybe today would be the day they reconnected.

He never could have predicted something like this happening. This wasn’t supposed to be what would bring them together again.

“And look! He skated your program! He did it just for you, so I just knew it was a sign. He was ready to join us!”

 **He** nudged Victor until he looked at the TV, which **he** had already set up to show the pause screen of a YouTube video. Victor couldn’t look away as it played. Yuuri skated his program with a greater depth of feeling than he could ever reach. Victor’s ears were ringing as he reeled with shock, but he could still hear the music in his head, created by Yuuri’s body as he skated.

If it wasn’t sealing Yuuri’s terrible fate, Victor would think it beautiful.

“He’s calling for us. Can you feel it? He wanted to be here so much. And now he is.”

Victor clenched his hand into a fist. He had harbored a tiny amount of hope that **he** hadn’t taken Yuuri, that it had been too difficult to retrieve him from another country. Or at the very least that **he** hadn’t gotten to him yet and Yuuri still had some days of freedom.

 **He** stood, sliding Victor’s feet to the floor. **He** grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers out of the fist before gently tugging to encourage him to stand. Victor refused.

“I prepared him so nicely for you. Don’t you want to see?”

Another tug. Another refusal.

“He was begging for his alpha, begging for _you_.”

Victor ripped his hand away.

 **He** frowned.

“Victor.”

There was an edge to **his** voice as **he** made a show of reaching into **his** pocket. Victor knew what **he** kept in there: the remote to the collar.

It shouldn’t have intimidated him as much as it did. So far, he had only been on the receiving end of a few shocks. Victor always considered himself to have a high pain tolerance. He took a beating falling on the ice and pushing his limits. He wasn’t _weak_. But the pain from those shocks wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before. It felt like every other sense was shut down, leaving only the all-encompassing pain to lance through every limb of his body.

Victor stood.

 **He** immediately brightened.

“Let’s go then! I can’t wait for you to see him.”

 **He** headed for the bedroom door and Victor forced himself to follow. Yuuri was also brought here unwillingly and no doubt he was just as scared as Victor had been—as he still was. **He** would eventually force them together in other ways, but that was a future problem. For now, Victor would just assure Yuuri he wasn’t alone. Plus...as horrible as this was, Victor took some comfort in having another person here. He hadn’t spoken to anyone other than **him** since he was taken. Despite everything it would be nice to—

_AROUSAL DESPERATION ALPHA ALPHA PLEASE_

The scent of omega in heat slammed into him as the door opened, bringing all thoughts to a crashing halt.

It was sweet, sweet and tempting, beckoning to him. Just a single breath was enough to scramble his mind and scatter everything into chaos. Yet through the haze of desire it cast over his mind, Victor was coherent enough to know he must resist. He couldn’t even look. He needed to put distance between himself and the scent or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

And wasn’t that a horrifying realization! He’d never been this close to an omega in heat, never imagined it would be this powerful. Stumbling back, he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his nose with his sleeve. **He** started shouting, but Victor couldn’t comprehend language at the moment. Then **he** grabbed his arm and hauled him into the room. _That_ Victor understood, but as disoriented as he was, there was no fighting back. The most he could do was veer to the side to avoid the bed.

He scrambled away until his back hit a wall, as far as he could get from the bed while being trapped in this room. Pheromones swirled around him, enticing him to come closer, closer, to touch and to taste. It was nearly overpowering how _desperate_ it was, with how much he _wanted_ because he could tell it was _Yuuri_ , his scent still familiar and discernible even months after the banquet. Yet, in the undercurrent of it all there was something sour: distress.

Victor needed to get out! Where was the door? He risked opening his eyes, but found himself staring straight at Yuuri’s face and everything froze.

If he had not already smelled him, Victor wouldn’t have been able to tell that the figure on the bed was Yuuri, as trussed up as he was. The upper half of his face was mostly obscured by a dark blue ribbon that acted as a blindfold, the bottom half distorted by the bit gag shoved into his mouth. Victor couldn’t help it as his eyes traveled down, following the ribbon as it wrapped loosely around Yuuri’s neck then spiralled around his chest, which was pressed into the bed. His back arched beautifully upwards, the ribbon culminating into a large bow just at his waist.

Victor forced himself to look away before he could go farther than that, burying his face in the crook of his arm to avoid any more looking or smelling. He could practically feel his own scent leaking out in response to the heat pheromones. It was only a matter of time before his instincts awakened as well. He needed to get out before he did something unforgivable!

Gritting his teeth, he inched along the wall, feeling for the corner.

“What are you doing?!”

Oh _god_ , he had forgotten about **him**. Victor was too weak to resist as **he** pulled him up.

“You would turn down a present such as this? You would refuse him?! I know you can smell that he’s in heat, so why would you ignore him when he needs you so _badly_. I can’t help him. Only _you_ can!”

“NO!”

He didn’t want to hear these insane ramblings! He didn’t want to be here! He didn’t want Yuuri to—

A shock from the collar cut his train of thought short. It sent him to his knees, his arms flopping to his side.

“Look at him!”

 **He** grabbed the back of Victor’s neck, thrusting him forward and his eyes flew open in shock.

The view laid out before him had clearly been intended as the main focus: Yuuri’s ass presented to him, framed nicely by tendrils from the ribbon, everything coming together with the shining blue jewel on the protruding end of a plug.

Victor ripped his gaze away, turning it downward, where he saw the spreader bar holding Yuuri’s ankles far apart. His wrists were cuffed to it, keeping his front pressed to the bed and his ass high in the air. There was already faint bruising around the bonds and Yuuri’s hands were clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms.

Yuuri sobbed harshly, half muffled by the gag, and his hands twitched.

“See, he’s calling for you!”

No! **He** was insane!

With a growl, Victor twisted away. He turned to look behind them and saw the door was left open. He pushed past **him** , finally making it out of the room. Needing to put as much distance between himself and Yuuri as possible, he stumbled into the kitchen and collapsed against the far wall, sliding down it until he was crumpled on the floor. **He** appeared in the doorway, yelling again, but Victor didn’t care to listen.

He drew his legs close to his chest to bury his face in his knees. It was the only thing he could think of to drown out the tendrils of Yuuri’s scent still reaching out to him. At least it wasn’t as strong now, not like the suffocating cloud it had been in the room. He could think a bit clearer already.

Victor tried not to dwell on the scent, but now that he was more lucid he could detect something _off_ about it. Of course, an omega in heat shouldn’t be distressed, but it was different from even that. It was a chemical scent, stark and artificial. **He** had induced that heat.

It wasn’t too surprising, given that it would be a hell of a coincidence if Yuuri just so happened to be due for a heat when **he** got **his** hands on him; however, it devastated Victor. Was this all Yuuri had known since he arrived here? Unwanted longing and urging and desperation?

Their situation was messed up enough without **him** descending to an even deeper level of depravity. **He** just expected them to fuck right away and omegas were the most fertile during heats. **He** was completely fine with just throwing Yuuri into this mess while he was too incoherent to process what was happening!

And **he** expected Victor to just go along with it—to be _happy_ even! Obviously, any time **he** forced them to fuck would be awful, but this was far too soon. They hadn’t had time to talk, to prepare, to brace themselves, to _explain_. Yuuri wouldn’t even know who was doing all that to him!

A hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head to the side. Something picked his exposed neck and retreated before he could even react.

“I don’t know what all that was about, but this should take care of it.”

 **He** stood a safe distance away, an empty syringe in his hand. Victor eyed it fearfully, already suspecting what it had contained.

“I thought I had been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t right for you after all. But those pictures at the banquet didn’t lie! You must like his scent, otherwise you wouldn’t have let him get so close, or have looked so happy. I can’t remember the last time I saw a smile like that on your face! Not even when you won gold did you look so happy. I won’t let you give that all up. Now you _will_ go into that room and fuck him.”

“No.”

“Give it a few minutes. I doubt you’ll be able to stop yourself this time.”

 **He** crossed **his** arms and leaned back against a counter.

Victor had pulled himself away from the smell of an omega in heat with his own power, but in rut he wouldn’t be in control. He would be operating completely under the influence of his alpha instincts, specifically unable to resist the smell of any omega, much less one in heat and seemingly waiting for him.

He could already feel an itch building under his skin. Victor clawed at his neck, trying to get it to stop, but the collar was getting in the damn way. He snarled and pulled on it in frustration, yet only got a warning shock. Stopping, Victor felt more anger at it than fear, more desire to lash out than to cower away.

His baser alpha instincts were rising to the surface and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He tried to focus them in on **him**. There was more than enough rage to completely overpower him, collar or not, but his instincts were far more interested in that delicious, tantalizing scent coming from the other room. It was _him_ , the omega they’d desired for _months_.

He was close and he needed them.

He was close, but still too far away.

He was close and they needed to go to him.

* * *

Alpha…where did alpha go? Alpha had been so close and now alpha was gone. No matter how loudly he moaned or how much he squirmed alpha didn’t come back. Was he bad? Did alpha not like him? He tried to go to alpha before because _of course_ he wanted alpha ~~no he didn’t he didn’t want this~~ but he couldn’t move ~~couldn’t escape~~ couldn’t see couldn’t talk. Could only smell. Alpha smelled like _alpha_ but also fear but mostly _alpha_ and he needed he needed so so badly.

Alpha! Where was alpha? It hurt. He wanted ~~someone to help~~ him something to fill him. There _was_ something inside him but ~~he didn’t want it there it~~ wasn’t _real_ it wasn’t _enough_.

He needed alpha.

Please alpha come back.

He rocked his hips but there was no friction no slide inside him no one to help him ~~get out~~.

“Alpha!” he tried to call out again but even his delirious ears knew it was nonsense. He sniffed the air and whined. Alpha was still there alpha wasn’t too far away why was alpha torturing him so? Was alpha waiting for him to prove himself? But he couldn’t build a nest he couldn’t beg ~~for this to stop~~. What did alpha want him to do?!

Wait…alpha…alpha was getting closer? Alpha hadn’t rejected him!

Alpha rumbled from the doorway and he whined ~~to be left alone~~ and pushed back begging for touch begging for _alpha’s_ touch alpha’s cock alpha _alpha_ **_alpha_**!

He grunted as the object was finally pulled from him. The emptiness was almost worse than that fake _thing_ and he moaned for alpha to fill him.

Alpha gripped his hips ~~no no NO~~ and _hard-thick-hot_ pressed against his entrance. He wanted ~~to get away it~~ needed it _alpha please_! Alpha thrust forward and it was ~~too much too big too deep stop!~~ everything he wanted. He moaned in ~~fear pain terror~~ relief.

Alpha was big and felt so good so perfect exactly what he needed. Alpha started hard and fast and pushed all the way in reaching deep so deep deeper than any meager toy. They were useless anyway didn’t feel like real alpha and real alpha was the best alpha. Alpha was taking care of him alpha was filling him. Alpha. Alpha. “Alpha! Alpha!” he was slurring.

Alpha bent down and pleased growling filled his ears. “Mine!”

~~No!~~

Yes! Alpha’s. He was alpha’s and alpha would take such good care of him. The best alpha the best his alpha Vi—ALPHA!

Alpha had hit that spot of white-hot pleasure and wouldn’t let up. So good _so good_ so much ~~stop please stop why it was good why~~ “Alpha alpha _Victor_ …” His alpha was best alpha and best alpha was Victor and Victor was ~~**_gone_ **~~

~~_missing_ ~~

~~not here~~

not here?

alpha?…was here. HERE! Taking care of him fucking him just right just like that like that ~~no~~ yes ~~no~~ yes ~~NO!~~ YES!

It felt so good he was floating he was gasping. Alpha’s knot was inside him alpha’s teeth were scraping uselessly over the covering around his neck. ~~Oh thank god!~~ No! He wanted to be bitten and bonded and paraded around to the world! ~~World? He was trapped.~~

Everything was good and perfect. Stuffed by alpha’s cock filled by alpha’s come stoppered by alpha’s knot…good good good…satisfied…

 ~~Where was~~ he? What ~~was~~ happening ~~?~~ It was okay alpha was here alpha’s knot was here alpha everything was okay…

 ~~But~~ …it was ~~n’t~~ his alpha. He didn’t have an alpha! He didn’t know who it was!

Yuuri sobbed, trying to form words but his tongue only flapped uselessly against the bar shoved into his mouth. He squirmed, trying to get away, but he was restrained and immobile and everything hurt. He could only lie there and feel the weight draped across his back, the breaths panting warm air near the base of his neck, the tight grip on his hips, the deflating knot in his ass.

What was happened? What did the man do? Yuuri remembered…screaming. Screaming and thrashing and then darkness. Who was inside him? Who had just fucked— _oh god_. It was the person the man had told him about, that mysterious “he” who wanted to take him and keep him and use him and breed him.

He writhed again, but still couldn’t move. There was a groan above him and the body on top of him shot up, letting out an anguished cry.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” a voice pleaded between sobs.

Finally, _finally_ , the cock inside him pulled out. The knot wasn’t completely down and Yuuri grunted around the gag as it stretched his rim. Hands fumbled with the bonds around Yuuri’s wrists, opening the cuffs and freeing him. The presence behind him disappeared and a door slammed.

Yuuri cautiously slid his knees down and drew his arms up to hug himself. He tried to quiet his breathing, straining to hear if anyone was still in the room. He seemed to be alone, but just to make sure…

He grabbed the covering over his eyes and pulled it up to look around. He was in a bland room, laid out on a bed in the middle of it. At least no one else was there.

Yuuri let out a sob, clearly audible through the…the _thing_ in his mouth. His hands scrabbled at the back of his head, struggling with the buckles until the gag finally loosened and came free. He spit it out, coughing and wiping at his mouth.

Something was still wrapped around his neck and he tugged at it with increasing desperation, which only pulled it more snugly against his chest. He pushed himself into a kneeling position and followed the wrapping until he found a bow at his waist. Ripping at the ends of it with tears of humiliation in his eyes, Yuuri remembered the last thing he remembered the man saying.

_“What do you think about a ribbon…”_

Memories of everything that man had done to him danced on the edges of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. The bow finally unravelled, the ribbon falling from his body as dark blue velvet slipped through his fingers. There was still pressure around his throat, but before Yuuri could investigate, a warmth trickled down his inner thigh. There were worse things than what the man had done, things that had _just_ happened to him. A stranger had done things to him, had ra—

He couldn’t be on this bed anymore!

Yuuri threw himself off the side and made to scramble away, but his legs were tangled in something and wouldn’t work properly. He looked down to see his ankles hobbled by a spreader bar. Nearly screaming with frustration, he fumbled at the clasps with shaking fingers. How many more layers were there to this bondage? How much more must he shuck away before he could finally be free!

Once he was released from the bar, he kicked it away and crawled to a corner of the room, as far from the bed as possible. Yuuri curled in on himself, already shaking with sobs.

He stared fearfully at the door. The “he” that the man had prepared him for must be on the other side. For how long would he be left alone? Surely “he” wouldn’t be satisfied with only once, but “his” actions also confused Yuuri. While he was in his heat haze and trying to beg for the alpha in the room to fuck him, he distinctly remembered a voice yelling “NO!” It wasn’t the man’s voice, but it was still strangely familiar. It must have been “him,” though why would “he” refuse? _How_ could “he” refuse? An omega in heat was extremely potent and difficult to resist for an alpha, yet “he” had gone so far as to flee the room. Why had “he” done that?

Strangest of all, Yuuri swore he heard sobs echoing his own from the other side of the door.

Ignoring that, he looked around the room again. Everything was nondescript, but there was a second door rather close to him. He tried to stand and immediately slid back down it as a wave of dizziness hit him. When was the last time he ate or drank? There was a yawning emptiness in his stomach and a dryness to his throat. It could have been any number of days since he had been taken from the train.

He pulled himself up the wall and headed toward the door with shaky steps. There was a good chance the door led to a bathroom, which would have _water_.

It turned out he was correct and he headed right for the sink, leaning down and drinking directly from the tap. Feeling a little bit better, Yuuri straightened and stared hard at his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in an attempt to get a better look at himself. Something was still around his neck: a simple black band, almost like a collar. Yuuri laughed sardonically to himself. Not “almost like.” It was undoubtedly so in this case. He tugged at it, but there didn’t seem to be a way to get it off.

Turning away, he found himself facing a shower. _A shower_. He needed to clean himself. He felt so dirty, inside and out.

With the water turned up searing hot, Yuuri first cleaned himself out, suffering through the indignity of squatting and prodding his hole with his finger. He was sore from being stretched by the plug for so long and from the size of the cock that fu—that—but nothing seemed to be damaged beyond that. After, he washed his body and ended up scrubbing so hard his skin was bright red. He still didn’t feel clean.

Stepping out of the shower dripping wet, Yuuri became painfully aware of how cold it was. The longer he stayed cold the harder it would be to warm up and he was already shivering. He threw open cabinets until he found stacks of towels and bathrobes. Putting a bathrobe on, he wrapped a few towels around himself for good measure. It wasn’t as good as real blankets, but the only ones he knew of were on the bed and those were just not an option.

For a brief moment, he considered sleeping in the bathroom, just to be as far from said bed as possible. It only took a second to dismiss that idea, as the tiles would leech any heat he managed to generate. Instead, he piled towels in the corner of the bedroom and settled down. The darkness of the window indicated it was night and he was exhausted anyway.

Predictably, he didn’t get much sleep. He wasn’t even granted the small mercy of unconsciousness, any bit of rest being plagued by what had happened to him, flashing and playing behind his eyelids as if it were a movie, burned into his mind for—

“Good morning!”

Yuuri shot up, heart racing. It was the man! There was no response, but the pause left clearly indicated he had been expecting one.

“Why the hell are you sleeping out here?”

“He” was still out there, so was that whom the man was addressing? Yuuri had been under the impression that “he” was the boss, so why was the man speaking in such a disrespectful manner.

“You were here all night? You left him alone!? Why would you do that to your omega?”

“He’s not _mine_ ,” a new voice growled.

The man scoffed.

“While I _did_ prevent you from bonding last night, it was only because I want us to plan it together. Otherwise _of course_ he’s yours! I picked him out just for you and everything.”

The man seemed imploring, but “he” wanted nothing to do with it.

“I have no intention of forcing him to do anything.”

Wait…that voice…

“Why would it be ‘forced?’ I told you: that video was his way of calling out to us. He wanted to be here!”

“You’re insane!”

Yuuri was sure that voice matched the one that had shouted “NO!” but there was something else that made it seem so familiar.

“I don’t appreciate being spoken to like that. Especially not after everything I’ve done for you, Victor.”

Oh god, oh god _no_ …

Yuuri threw himself back from the door as “he,” apparently _Victor Nikiforov_ , let out of muffled grunt.

What—what was happening? This couldn’t be real. He didn’t want any of it to be real, but especially not _that_. It meant that the man had been the one to take Victor, that Victor had been the one to…

There was more yelling on the other side of the door, but Yuuri couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t even understand his own thoughts, much less the mix of English and Russian he was hearing.

He ran to the dresser, pulling open the draws and digging through their contents. There was the shirt Victor wore on the plane to NHK last season, the jeans he favored wearing while walking Makkachin in St. Petersburg, the sweater from his latest photoshoot. All of Victor’s clothes were missing from his apartment…

Yuuri stumbled back on weak legs until he hit the bed, which he quickly sprang away from.

The man had been behind Victor’s disappearance and he had arranged for Yuuri to be taken. Victor was here just as unwillingly as he was. That meant…

Victor had refused and left the room when the man clearly wanted him to fuck Yuuri. He had come back, smelling like rut, but now that Yuuri was thinking with a clearer mind, something was off about that. No one could go into rut on command. Alphas could get swept up in the pheromones released during an omega’s heat and act purely on instinct, but it wasn’t a true rut like he knew Victor had been in. It must have been induced!

“I’ll talk to Yuuri.”

Victor’s voice saying his name drew Yuuri’s attention back to the current moment and his gaze snapped to the door. Victor was on the other side of it, confronting their abductor and it seemed like he was about to come in here! What if he brought the man in? What if the man insisted on staying, on forcing them, on watching—

A door slammed and Yuuri flinched. He fell to his knees, trembling and struggling not to dissolve into sobs again. Despite the fact that Victor seemed to have been just as forced as he was, Yuuri was still scared and hurt. The man was here and very much in control. He had already manipulated their bodies for his own ends and there was no telling how far he was willing to go or how much he was willing to push them.

There was a soft knock on the door.

Oh god, Yuuri wasn’t prepared for this, for _any_ of this. He was still in a bathrobe and without his glasses, naked and blind. _Vulnerable_.

“Yuuri?” Victor called softly, knocking again.

How did he know it was him? Yuuri hadn’t thought Victor even knew his name.

“I…you don’t have to come out, but I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to explain. Well, try to explain. I’ll get you some food.”

Yuuri heard Victor sigh and walk away from the door. Even with that distance, he could still smell anxious alpha.

He needed to look at this situation from a different angle. It wasn’t his idol on the other side of that door. It was his fellow captive, one who had strived not to hurt him. He just had to keep that in mind and he should be able to handle this.

Besides, something to eat sounded so good.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Yuuri stood and approached the door. He opened it slowly and cautiously looked around the new room. It was still bland, but decorated as a living room. There was a flurry of movement in the corner of his eye and he whipped his head in that direction.

There, standing in an archway, was Victor Nikiforov. He was haggard and disheveled, but it was really, truly _him_. Yuuri also noted the same collar around his neck, but that was all he had time to take in before Victor started speaking.

“Yuuri, I…”

Victor tried to say more, his mouth working soundlessly, but nothing came out. His expression crumpled, revealing something so raw that it made Yuuri almost scared. In the ten years he’d been following Victor’s career religiously—reading every article, listening to every interview, watching every skate—he had never seen Victor like this. There was no press smile, no confident smirk, no flirty winks, no subtly flippant remark. There was nothing to conceal the turbulent emotions whirling in his eyes: the conflict, the pain, the anger.

Yuuri had no time to process this as Victor found his voice again.

“I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry,” Victor managed. “I-I resisted as much as I could, but then…then **he** induced my rut…”

“‘ **He** ,’” Yuuri repeated, copying the strange emphasis Victor had put on that word. “You mean the man who…who took us?”

“Yes. I don’t even know **his** name, but **he** claims we’ve met. It must have been over ten years ago, though. I can’t remember ever seeing **him** before.”

Victor looked incredibly frustrated with himself, another expression Yuuri wasn’t used to seeing on him. Victor was always self-assured. He never doubted his words or actions.

“Why…why did **he** …” Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence unless he wanted to risk breaking down again. He wouldn’t do that now, not in front of Victor.

A microwave beeped from the room behind Victor, presumably a kitchen, and he glanced back.

“Sit down,” Victor said, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll bring you some soup and try to explain.”

Victor offered him a small smile and Yuuri just nodded. Once Victor had gone back into the kitchen, Yuuri headed for the couch in the middle of the room. There was a blanket draped over the back, which he pulled off and wrapped around himself, needing another layer against the cold and his own vulnerability.

It didn’t take long for Victor to come back with a steaming bowl and a spoon. He set them on the coffee table in front of Yuuri and then retreated to sit gingerly on the opposite edge of the couch. Yuuri pulled the bowl close and began to eat. He couldn’t have said what kind of soup it was, he ate so quickly, but he cared little for decorum here. Victor was silent as he ate and Yuuri was grateful for that. He needed food and he wouldn’t have been able to stomach it if they started talking about what happened now.

When he finished, Yuuri pushed the bowl away and mumbled, “Th-thank you.”

“Do you want any more?”

“No, not right now.”

Silence fell once again, extending to the point that Yuuri wondered if Victor remembered he was going to explain. He stared resolutely ahead, very pointedly not at Yuuri.

“This is all my fault,” Victor said abruptly.

Where did he get that idea? Some maniac wanted to play matchmaker and Victor had nothing to do with it.

“You’re not the—not the one who brought me here,” Yuuri said.

“I may not have _physically_ done it, but it was _because_ of me! **H-he** thinks I want a family. Well, **he** ’s _right_ , but not like this! Of course not like this.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but get stuck on Victor _wanting_ for anything, much less a family. There were hundreds of omegas who would jump at the chance to give him one and before getting on that train to Fukuoka Yuuri would have counted himself among that number.

So why, out of all of them, did the man— **he** —choose _him_? What could Yuuri possibly offer to Victor that others couldn’t? He knew there wouldn’t be an answer, but he turned to Victor to ask why anyway. The words got stuck in his throat at the sight of tears running down Victor’s face. He didn’t seem to be aware of them himself, as he made no move to wipe them away. They fell, unbidden, rolling down his cheeks before dripping off his chin into his lap.

Yuuri could only stare.

“If **he** had taken just me…if **he** had wanted to play out some twisted version of house with just the two of us…then I could have lived with that,” Victor said with grim resignation. “I could have figured out how to deal with it. But **he** didn’t. **He** took someone else. **He** dragged _you_ into this, Yuuri, and I can’t be okay with that.”

Victor touched a hand to his face and then stared at his fingertips, blinking as if he was surprised they were wet.

“Victor?” Yuuri said hesitantly. “I don’t blame you. **He** ’s the one who took me.”

“But I still—I still—”

Yuuri viciously shook his head. It was hard to put into words, especially when he was such a wreck it was nearly impossible to sort out his own feelings, but he _needed_ to tell Victor this. He needed Victor to understand how his shouted “NO!” had been so visceral that it stood out to Yuuri even through the heat haze. Like Victor himself had said, he had resisted. It would have been so easy for him to give in, but he hadn’t until he was in the throws of a rut, the point where he was more alpha instincts than Victor Nikiforov.

“You…you _stopped_ yourself. You didn’t want to…to do what **he** said,” Yuuri said. “It means so much that you were able to do that. It was far better than what **he** did.”

“What did **he** do?” Victor asked, his words fading into a growl and his countenance darkening with anger. He stared straight ahead with his jaw tense and his hands clenched into fists.

Yuuri simply gaped at him. He didn’t expect such a display of emotion at just the idea of him being hurt, but a part of him was pleased at it. He could feel a soft purr building in his throat and he struggled to swallow it down.

With that, he became startlingly aware that they were an alpha and omega pair. Their bodies were responding to the recent mating without any regard to the surrounding circumstances. Victor was growling at the hint of mistreatment against his omega and Yuuri was purring at the show of protection from his alpha. They were no longer pressed against the edges of the couch, having unconsciously shifted toward the middle, closer to each other.

Something came to Yuuri, something that should have been been obvious, but he was only just managing to put the pieces together, now that they were all laid out in front of him. **He** had talked about how **he** was preparing Yuuri for an alpha. That alpha was Victor and **he** had also mentioned Yuuri carrying—

“ **He** wants me to bear your child!”

He said it like a revelation, not an answer to Victor’s question, but it worked well enough.

Victor’s growl grew in pitch. “So **he** told you.”

Yuuri’s mind was racing, bringing up everything **he** had said about that mysterious “he” and relating it to Victor. **He** had truly believed **he** was doing it all for him!

But there was something else, something important that changed everything, something that would upset **him** very much if **he** learned about it. It disrupted all **his** plans!

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Victor was startled when Yuuri abruptly began laughing. It snapped him out of the protective alpha mode he had unconsciously slipped into, which was worrying enough on its own. Victor wasn’t exactly surprised by that; this was the first time they were together again after being separated for several months—and Yuuri hadn’t stopped smelling distressed. It was just concerning how easily he rose to anger in a situation where expressing even the slightest bit of annoyance brought about a punishment.

Speaking of concerning…

Yuuri was still laughing, leaning forward and clutching his stomach and sounding a touch more manic.

Victor was still hesitant to initiate contact, but should he at least say something?

“It-it won’t work!” Yuuri gasped.

“Wha—”

Yuuri pushed himself up until he was kneeling on the couch facing Victor, leaning forward to get close. His eyes flicked side-to-side, as if making sure there was no one listening in.

“Victor,” he said in a hushed voice, “I have an IUD.”

Victor blinked. An IUD…

A hazy memory came to him, though it was getting sharper every second. It had been during his first year in seniors and he had gone to Madame Lilia’s studio to ask for help with a program, only to overhear her giving a lecture to the women and omegas under her tutelage. Being an alpha male, he was of the least likely dynamic and sex to bear a child and thus had never given much thought it what it entailed, but what he heard that day answered any question he had thought of, as well as several he hadn’t for good measure.

No detail had been spared as Lilia talked about organs being shoved aside and crushed, hips being forced out of alignment and never resettling, flexibility and muscle memory gone from months of being unable to train—it was a warning against fooling around carelessly. She had listed ways to prevent such things and one of them…

“With the IUD…you-you can’t get pregnant?”

Yuuri shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Victor heaved a stuttering sign. This changed everything! He felt laughter of his own bubbling up.

“Oh thank god, Yuuri, thank _god_. I-I was so afraid I had gotten you pregnant before I could even talk with you.”

“ **He** ’ll never get what he wants!”

Victor let himself get swept up in Yuuri’s elation. It was just so amazing that he could laugh and smile like that after everything he had been put through. Touch came so naturally to him that he didn’t even think as he closed the distance between them to draw Yuuri into a hug.

He realized his mistake right before Yuuri tensed in his arms, laughter fading into a startled gasp. Victor released him and hastily retreated to the far side of the room.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking and it was just the first thing that came to me to do—”

“It’s o—”

“It’s _not_ okay,” Victor said. He turned away, bringing his hand up to push his bangs away from his forehead. There was really nothing he could say. He needed to control himself better. It was just so hard because it was _Yuuri_ , the omega he had been fixated on since Sochi, and he was in distress. Victor wanted to comfort him, but he wasn’t great at that in general. His first instinct was hugging, which was definitely off limits. He wasn’t much of an alpha if he couldn’t protect Yuuri from himself.

“I just—I wasn’t expecting it,” Yuuri said, playing with his hands in his lap.

Victor didn’t know what to expect either. Yuuri was so confusing and complex, switching between laughter and timid shuffling as easily as breathing. **He** was even worse. **He** had trussed Yuuri up and drugged them both as if **he** knew they didn’t want it, but **he** also barged in the next morning, screaming and angry they hadn’t cuddled afterwards.

“Victor?” Yuuri’s voice was small and when Victor looked up he was biting his lip.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

“ **He** ’s… **he** ’s going to come back isn’t **he**? I won’t get pregnant, so **he** ’ll just keep trying.”

Victor cast his gaze away. That same thought had been sitting in the back of his mind, though he had managed to push it aside in favor of taking care of Yuuri. He hated to keep following this negative line of conversation, but they needed to talk about this.

“I think **he** will, yes,” Victor said. “ **He** has ways of forcing us, like the drugs from earlier. And the collars.”

Yuuri raised a hand to touch his. “What do they do? I just thought **he** wanted a mark of _ownership_.”

Victor sighed heavily. “It’s difficult and I don’t fully understand how **he** works, but I do know **he** wants us to be a family. All three of us.”

“Wh-what?”

“From **his** point of view, **he** hasn’t kidnapped us. **He** ’s brought us home. We’re not **his** prisoners—we’re **his** _partners_.”

Yuuri looked sick. “Then why the collars?”

“I don’t know what he sees them as, not for sure. I think it means that on some level **he** knows that it’s all a fantasy **he** ’s built up in **his** head. It’s delicate enough that acting out of line will bring it all crashing down, yet still strong enough that causing us pain won’t break it.”

“But what do they _do_?”

“They have…electricity, I guess? I have no idea how it works, but **he** ’s shocked me before and it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“And even if we can resist that, **he** ’ll just drug us again.”

“Yes.” Victor leaned against the wall behind him and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. He felt completely drained. How was he supposed to stand normally as he explained to Yuuri that he would rape him again? “So I’m sure **he** ’ll force us…to have sex again.”

He was a coward. He couldn’t even say it out loud. Some alpha he was.

“Oh.”

Victor didn’t know what he expected Yuuri to say, but that certainly wasn’t it. That was almost a disquieting acceptance. He wasn’t going to fool himself and think it meant Yuuri was _okay_ with what was happening or that Yuuri didn’t mind being trapped with him.

“Yuuri…” he started. “Everything you’re going through is because of _me_ and I’ll only end up hurting you more in the future. I’ll do my best to stay away—”

“It’s because of **him**.”

“What?”

“When I first woke up here…I was strapped down to a table.”

Victor snapped his gaze up to Yuuri. He was staring at nothing and had a carefully blank look on his face. Yuuri hadn’t given him a full answer before when Victor had asked about what **he** had done. Was he ready to talk about it? But why now?

“I was alone and scared and didn’t know what was happening. Then **he** came in and…and…”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and drew a shaky breath from between clenched teeth. Victor didn’t know if he should encourage him to keep talking or assure him he didn’t need to continue. Which would be pushing Yuuri in the wrong direction? He kept silent as a compromise.

“ **He** kept touching me. No matter how much I screamed for **him** to leave me alone… **he** kept touching me. And then I woke up on…on the bed and I couldn’t even beg not to be touched! There was nothing to stop you but yourself and you still walked away. I didn’t even have to say anything and you listened. So, no, this isn’t because of you. It’s because of **him**.”

“But I came back. I couldn’t stop myse—”

“That was still **him**! **He** drugged you and that was the only reason you couldn’t resist anymore. You didn’t want to. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

But Yuuri had still been hurt! Forced or not, it was still _Victor’s_ body that had violated Yuuri and he didn’t even seem to care!

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Yuuri,” he said. “I would understand if you didn’t want anything to do with me. I hurt you now with just a _hug_.”

“You still didn’t _mean_ to. You realized I was uncomfortable and backed away. **He** knew I was because I was screaming at **him** and **he** just kept pushing! **He** didn’t care!” Yuuri took a deep breath. “But _you_ did.”

“ **He** ’ll force me to do much worse in the future,” Victor pointed out.

Yuuri finally rose from his perch on the couch and approached him. “And I’ll be doing the same to you.”

Victor blinked up at Yuuri. He hadn’t thought about it like that. Did he think it couldn’t happen to him because he was a big, bad alpha? Yuuri may have been the one tied up, but Victor had been just as helpless. They were both subject to the whims of their dynamic. Yuuri had been drugged to want it; Victor had been drugged to want it.

There really wasn’t much discrepancy between their situations, was there?

If anything, being an alpha had only made things worse. He could have ruts and was extremely susceptible to omega scents. He had gotten attached to Yuuri even before all of this, which had already negatively impacted things between them.

Ironically enough, that made him feel a little bit better. He was allowed to be upset for _himself_. He could hate **him** for what **he** made him to do Yuuri _and_ for taking him away from his home, his life, his dog. Surely relief wasn’t the usual response to realizing you had been raped?

At the same time, Victor couldn’t help but almost laugh. Yuuri was continuing to surprise him. Victor had questioned himself more during this conversation than he had over the course of his entire skating career.

Okay, well that meant he needed to look at things differently. He could try as hard as possible to be the best alpha, but he would always fail. Maybe that wasn’t even what Yuuri needed right now. He was more than his dynamic, more than just “an omega,” so of course Yuuri needed more from Victor than just “an alpha.”

“Victor? Victor!” Yuuri was right in front of him, eyes wide and panicked. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that so…so casually!”

“Yuuri, it’s okay,” Victor said. “It’s just…we’re really in this together, aren’t we?”

“I suppose we are.” Yuuri smiled weakly. “I…I don’t want to be alone here. I don’t care what **he** makes us do. I just can’t be alone…”

Yuuri didn’t need him to be an alpha, but that didn’t mean Victor was useless. He could still help, just by being with him.

“Then you won’t be,” Victor said, standing. He held a hand down to help Yuuri up. “I’ll be here for you.”

Yuuri smiled and took his hand, letting Victor pull him up. Smiling back, Victor adjusted his grip so they were meeting in a handshake.

“Together?”

“Together.”

For the first time in weeks, Victor felt something resembling a positive emotion. It might have been happiness or hope or maybe some combination of the two. He couldn’t quite put a name to it, but it filled him with warmth.

There was still more to talk about—a lot more considering what would happen in the future. This was enough for now, however, after everything that had happened. There was only so much they could handle at one time. Besides, Victor was content with what they had established here. He had been so terrified that Yuuri would want nothing to do with him. Of course he would understand and respect that, but he wouldn’t be able to take causing Yuuri distress just by existing in the same space.

He was so grateful that hadn’t been the case. Neither of them were exactly okay, but they had each other.

They could do this…together.

 

_knock knock knock_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out the comic in the next chapter! If you enjoy it, head on over to [Tumblr](http://mferret9.tumblr.com/post/179330835241) and reblog it!


	2. Taken - The Comic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I hope you enjoy this mini comic illustrating the "presentation" scene from this incredible fic. I had so much fun drawing these, and working with fukujoshi <3

  


  


  
  


  
  



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